


Love; Unspoken

by vanillascribble



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 14:04:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10492503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillascribble/pseuds/vanillascribble
Summary: Jinyoung felt lost, trapped in self-doubt while in transit to Tokyo. It was Mark who found him.





	

Love; Unspoken / GOT7 Fanfic / Vignette-ish / Angst / Mark Tuan x Park Jinyoung x Wang Jackson / 491 words

 

 

 

 

Jinyoung felt it in waves, noticed it as the words in front of him began to sway and slowly disappear; the black cursive melting unto crispy white paper. He tried to quell it, to swallow it in and time his breathing to the soft snores emanating from Jackson who was sleeping nearby; a dreamworld removed from their current reality. Failing to do so, his lips quivered and he lifted the book higher, hiding his face from view against the helplessness that tried to consume him. The darkness appeared at random times—the feeling that he is not good enough, could never be good enough holding him hostage, immobilised. The darkness from which Jackson has tried to set him free from, as he hypnotised Jinyoung time and time again;

 

“Jinyoung-ah, why are you being like this? Just have faith in yourself,”

“I know you can do it—why won’t you believe in your own ability?”

“Yaaah! Park Jinyoung! Just do it. I’m here to catch you if you fall, am I not?”

“Jinyoung-ah…don’t you—don’t you trust me?”

 

During times like that, he would nod in acquiescence and smiled, knowing Jackson wouldn’t budge an inch if he didn’t do so. But Jackson’s words often left him moments later, running southward like raindrops upon glass.

 

Seven seats away, amidst the call for passengers to board the outbound flight to Narita, Mark noticed it the moment it happened; the slight slump in Jinyoung’s shoulders as the younger man tried to rein in his emotions. He watched in silence, as Jinyoung laid the book on the chair next to him and began reaching into his back pocket for his phone. Pursing his lips, he tugged his cap downward; undecided about his next move, while Jinyoung continued to stare at his own shoes, his fingers fiddling with the phone under the pretense of surfing the net. Mark noted the screen light wasn’t even on, its battery probably dead. He looked away, decided to ignore it—what the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve over.

But moments later, his legs uncrossed themselves, making their way across the floor towards the source of his discomfort.

 

The monk orange cotton spread over him like a tent, covering his head and shielding him from the curious onlookers and the rest of the world. He didn’t even have to guess who the culprit was, as his breath hitched upon inhaling the sparkling summer days of Mark’s Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue—and that’s when Jinyoung surrendered; closing his eyes and leaning his head against Mark’s upper thighs, seeking solace. _Thanks,_ hyung _._

Three seats away, Jackson peeked from beneath half-opened eyelids, saw the way Mark ruffled at Jinyoung’s hair; his pale fingers in contrast against the jet black crown, as Jinyoung shuddered for a brief moment. He paused, was about to say something, but closed his eyes again on an afterthought, swallowing the aftertaste of betrayal as he feigned sleep.    

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                                            

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the picture above.


End file.
